


Cirque Du Freak: Paris Bound and Down

by SkyHenson



Category: Cirque du Freak | The Saga of Darren Shan - Darren Shan
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24002479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyHenson/pseuds/SkyHenson
Summary: Zephyr lost everything the day her brother fled an angry mob. Sold into slavery to help her family pay for food for a while, she escapes her vicious master only to stumble across the world of a Vampire's Assistant. Offered the opportunity to travel with one of the most respected of the vampires, which path will she choose? One of light or one of the night?CDF belongs to Darren Shan and his amazing author skills.Zephyr belongs to meStory is for fun never profit of any kind.
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Cirque Du Freak: Paris Bound and Down**

**Chapter One: The Catalyst**

_Darkness. That’s all that surrounded the pair. BOOM! The rolling thunder cracked overhead, shaking the small shack of a house down to its foundation. The tot shuddered. Her tiny body shook with fear._

_“Come here.” The voice was gentle but firm. Looking over, the child saw her older brother, one of seven, watching her intently. “Zeph, come here.” Her brother said again._

_Zephyr scrambled over their other siblings, dodging their swats as she did to her brother. His unnatural orange hair stood out like a beacon in the night. “Thank you, Warden.” She murmured, snuggling into him._

_Larten smiled slightly as he folded her into him. She had just started speaking and still struggled with all their names. “No problem.”_

The morning was foreboding, dark. Zephyr looked up from the grass at the lurking storm clouds. The memory made her smile to herself as she nibbled her bread, lifted from the family pantry. It had been three years since that night and while she had grown some, she was still the youngest. Therefore, she had learned to rise early and sneak down to get some food before their mother even woke.

The city around them had risen a few minutes ago. She could hear the slow rumblings of foreman and other business men bartering along the streets. Carriages and the pounding of the horses told her the world was waking up. “UP! UP WITH ALL OF YOU!” Zephyr’s mother shrieked from inside the shack.

Zephyr listened to the sudden chaos erupting within the house. Her siblings were wrestling with one another for the bath pan and swearing at each other. Clambering down the stairs, they were animal like in their competition for breakfast. _Idiots…_ Zephyr thought as she finished off the last of the stale bread in her hand.

As her siblings plowed out of the house, the youngster cleared off her stump, looking for her favorite of them all. The only one who treated her humanely, Larten. He was towards the back of the madness with their cousin, Vur. Zephyr frowned when she saw Vur trudging along behind her brother. He had been brought to them when his parents died, she thinks anyways. She was young but had heard the merchants talking. _Leech, stole my brother._ The child thought bitterly as Zephyr knelt down beside Larten, who had taken the stump she vacated.

“’Morning, Zeph.” Larten nodded to her as he woofed down his watered grain and bread. Vur said nothing. He had been mentioning the factory before they sat down, but he usually shut up around Zephyr.

“Morning.” She answered, trying to sound sweet. Her brother offered her some of his bread but she shook her head.

Larten raised an eyebrow, “You ate right?”

“Yes.” The lighter haired child smirked. “As I usually do in the morning.” Her tricks were not a secret from Larten. He had showed her where their mother kept the rations, but he had warned her against getting caught.

“Smart.”

“AWAY WITH YOU ALL! I HAVE TOO MUCH TO DO THAN WATCH YOU ALL DAY! GO!” Their mother roared, swatting at those children closest to her. The siblings all scattered into the city. Most were on their way to factories. Zephyr walked with Larten and Vur to the edge of the block. There, Larten gave her a hug good bye before racing off with their cousin.

In the city, one had to be six to work in a factory. She had another year before Zephyr could start her factory work. So, she spent her days down in the square scavenging for dropped currency and wares that her family could then use or sell.

“Zephyr! Over here!” a small voice called hoarsely. The child looked over to see a dirty, shaggy haired boy hiding under a cart. She got down and crawled over to him.

“Morning Jacob.” She mused crouching down next to him. “Why are we hiding under this cart?”

Jacob smiled mischievously. “There are some big people here today. Money bag people. So, we have to be super sneaky today and we may be able to make out well.”

“Oh,” Zephyr frowned. This was both good and bad news. Money bags never came very often. Once every few months maybe. They were in charge of the factories. So, she was sure her brother would be in a mood later as he always was when the money bags people came.

The pair met up with a few more of the local children and set about their work. They went from one corner of the market to another. It was a larger square than most would take it for, about a mile by a mile square. Zephyr would duck in and out of the cart. She had told herself never to steal anything from the tops of the carts, but anything that fell to the ground was fair game. Today, she was excited when the baker dropped a loaf of bread.

“Hey get back here you wretch!” he balked at her as she sprinted off with his dusted bread.

“Whoa, a whole loaf!” Jacob drooled, eyeing her prize under the shade of the pillar to one of the factories. The storm clouds hadn’t cleared, but sometimes, when a merchant was mad enough, the authorities came looking for a thief so it was best to hide.

Zephyr ripped the bread in half and handed him half, “Here, I bet you are as hungry as I am.” The pair sat, people watching, as they devoured their rare treat.

After a while of just watching, Jacob turned to her, “Thank you, Zeph.”

“Of course. You would do the same.” She countered, leaning against the cold wall of stone behind her.

“Yeah, I would.” He confessed. “Zeph, we have been friends for like ever right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I promise, we will get out of this dumb city together. We won’t be stuck like our folks. I am gonna buy us this big house with tons of land and animals! We will live like those money bags people!” Jacob gushed, watching her expectantly.

Zephyr giggled, “If you say so Jacob.” Jacob was two years her senior, but he was full of dreams and aspirations. No one ever left this little city. You were born here, worked here, and died here. That is the way.

As the pair sat, their bellies now satisfied for now, they noticed a large mob forming at the entrance to the factory. People were shouting and hollering at one another. Zephyr grabbed Jacob by the arm and dragged him nearer to listen.

“It was that Larten Crepsley kid!”

“He did this!”

“Murderer!”

The mob was screaming these things angrily at one another. The adults were trying to figure out what to do about it as the words sank into the little girl lingering nearby. Zephyr’s eyes widened. Her heart seemed to stop as the world spun around her. _Murderer? Larten?_

Jacob was about to say something when the factory doors opened and four burly men emerged, carrying something over their shoulder. The kids gasped, stopping themselves from shrieking when they realized it was a body. Covered in blood, Zephyr recognized it as the vicious foreman, Traz, her brother and cousin always talked about. He was pale and lifeless. The image now burned in her mind; the child struggled to gather her thoughts. She pivoted, practically knocking Jacob over as she did, and began running. _I need to find Larten._

Her instincts told her to head to the outskirts of the city. Anyone who would be fleeing anything would want to leave this dreaded city right? So, he must be looking to leave for good she told herself as she plowed through the throngs of people. Having been up and down this city the past three years, she knew a few short cuts most people didn’t.

“Larten!” she screamed as she recognized her brother just beyond the city border.

The young boy whirled; eyes wild. “Zephyr?!”

Her chest ached with a stabbing pain as she hunched before her brother. Larten looked over her shoulder, anxious to see if she was followed, “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“What happened?!” she gasped, trying to catch her breath.

She had never seen this look on her brother’s face. His clothes were caked in blood. _Traz’s blood._ “Zephyr,” Larten breathed, putting his hands on her shoulders, “I have to go. Something happened and I can’t stay here anymore.”

“Please, come home! We can explain this to M- “

“NO!” In her short five years, her brother had never once yelled at her. The sound drew tears, softening his expression some. “No,” he repeated, “Zephyr, I’m sorry. I-I can’t.”

Zephyr felt the tears trickle down her cheeks. A lump forming in her throat, she nodded slowly, “Ok, go… but please… promise me you will come back for me. Someday.” 

Larten leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I promise.” With that, he turned and vanished into the rain that was beginning to pour from the sky above. Zephyr stood there a while longer, letting it seep into her clothes and chill her to the bone. She didn’t feel it anyway, there was an emptiness now. One that would last for many more years.

News of what happened in the factory travelled like wildfire. The story was Larten had gone ballistic and killed their cousin, Vur, and the foreman, Traz in a fit of rage. Zephyr didn’t believe any of it. She believed her brother had killed Traz, but she felt Traz was the true murderer. He must have done something to Vur which triggered her brother. Her brother wouldn’t have just snapped like that. _I had been hoping Vur would go away for a while now, but… I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to lose my brother too._ Zephyr thought miserably one night.

The next three months for the Crepsley Family were hard. They had lost two incomes, not just one. Now known as the family of a murderer, some of the other children stood to be fired as well out of fear the same could happen to another foreman. It was as if the city feared murder ran in the family. Jacob had even stopped talking to Zephyr after she exploded on him for believing what the people were saying about her brother.

Zephyr hauled herself home one night, months after the incident with Traz. It had been another slow day. Most people chased her out of the market anymore so she rarely found even a penny. As she approached the house, she noticed a horse and carriage outside the shack.

Carriages and horses were reserved for the wealthy. This carriage was a slick black and well furnished with maroon upholstery. The horse up at the front was a beautiful thoroughbred with chocolate mane and coat. Zephyr stroked the horse lightly before ducking into the house.

There was an eerie foreboding as she entered what was their kitchen. Her parents were seated across from a well-dressed man in a top hat. His mustache curled at both ends. His eyes looked her up and down as if she were a piece of meat. “Hello?” Zephyr greeted them all anxiously.

“She is quite pretty. The price we negotiated seems fair.” The man in the hat turned back to her parents and handed them a small bag that clinked. Zephyr’s father couldn’t look at her. Her mother was watching her nervously.

“What’s going on?” Zephyr demanded, growing more uneasy.

With a snap of his finger, another man, dressed similarly, emerged from the backyard behind Zephyr. He picked her up by the waist with one arm and used the other to restrain her hands. The child began flailing and shrieking horribly. “MOTHER! FATHER! PLEASE!” she screamed as the two men carried her towards the carriage.

Hoping against hope, as she fought what she assumed was the servant, Zephyr prayed her brother would appear somewhere and kill these two kidnappers. “LARTEN! PLEASE HELP ME!”


	2. Chapter 2: The Wildman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zephyr has been snatched from her family. Adjusting to life as a servant is not the easiest, but there may be a light at the end of this tunnel.

**Chapter 2: The Wildman**

_Hot._ That was all any of the servants could think of as they skulked about the plantation. Those with darker skin had it especially bad as the sun nearly baked them. Zephyr went around with what ice should could muster from the house and distributed it around.

“Thank you, child.” Angus, the head overseer smiled gratefully as he popped a cube into his mouth. The teen had heard rumors trickle up from the south about cruel masters who whipped and maimed their servants. The only one who bore scars around here, was her.

“GIRL! Where you at?!” Master Thorwald boomed from the porch. Zephyr bid everyone pardon before sprinting across the field back to the house. A thick smell of liquor hovered around the burly man. The young woman had to suppress a cough as she came within scent distance.

“Yes, sir?” she curtsied obediently.

Thorwald grabbed her arm gruffly and hauled her up onto the porch. Nearly throwing her into the door, he sneered, “Do I sense some indignation?” His breath wreaked of days old liquor.

 _He must have been fighting with the missus again._ Zephyr shook her head quickly, “No sir, I just asked what you need of me.”

Her master looked her up and down, weighing the sincerity. Leaning back, he determined there was no threat. “Go get into some decent clothes. I need to run some errands and I need someone to carry things.” He informed her.

The thought of a trip excited the teen. She was rarely allowed off the land. On rare occasions, she was toted along with the Miss to help her on a shopping trip into town, but those were growing fewer. It had been months since she had been out. “Yes, sir. Right away.” With that, Zephyr ducked into the house and up to her attic bedroom. The servant’s quarters.

Minutes later, she heard Master Thorwald barking around, looking for her. Zephyr pulled the simple tan cloth dress over her now formed body and ran a brush through her golden hair before bolting back down the stairs. If she wasn’t fast, she would get a whipping.

“Don’t look so happy, this isn’t a field trip.” Her master snapped, throwing a punch and knocking her to the ground before she reached the last stair. Zephyr winced but didn’t let it make her cry. After eleven years, she was used to the random lashings. Pulling herself up, she muttered an apology and went to fetch the carriage.

Despite the heat causing sweat to bead down her neck, Zephyr found herself enjoying the ride. Their horse, Callum, trotted along at a steady pace. She looked around the forest that bordered the plantation as they strolled through. Her master had passed out in a stupor so she had a rare moment of peace.

Halfway along the trail, Callum hesitated, growing slightly uneasy. Zephyr looked around for any signs of a nearby predator. The musket was behind her for protection, but the forest was still. The horse paused, ear twitching nervously. “Callum?” Zephyr gave the reigns a gentle tap, trying to get him moving. If Thorwald woke up now, she shuddered at the thought.

Callum whickered anxiously. The teen frowned and jumped down, looking further into the woods. There was nothing immediately around them. Zephyr gasped and moved closer to the horse’s flank. In a patch of sunlight, a way off, she saw a very large and wild looking man. He had oddly colored green hair and was, from what she could see, dressed in nothing but fur from the waist down. He was basking in the sunlight, his skin a deep red.

Zephyr thought about yelling out, but didn’t want to chance waking Thorwald. She didn’t need to. The wild man looked over and caught her looking. With a smirk, he vanished. _What the? Where did he go?!_ Growing more anxious, she decided not to find out. Clambering back up onto her perch, she urged Callum forward. He went without argument. The threat now gone. _Who was that man?_

Summertime often made the city and markets very busy. Tourists and merchants from all over came to try and barter their wares. Zephyr didn’t mind the city so much. It was much brighter, cleaner, and overall nicer than the one Thorwald had taken her from. A small pang of hurt throbbed through her as she thought back to her hometown. Her brother.

Zephyr frowned, staring down at the cobblestone as she followed her Master around dutifully. _Larten… I wonder where you are now? Are you even alive?_ Her thoughts wandered as her Master wandered from merchant to merchant. He had woken from his stupor a bit more pleasant. Zephyr didn’t expect it to last long. They would dine at the local tavern and he would drink himself into it again, probably strike her once more then pass out.

It has been eleven years since the night Zephyr had been sold to Thorwald. For the first two years, she hated him and was rather rebellious. Maybe that was why he always beat on her. However, she had harbored a lot of resentment for her family and him back then. Now, she had accepted the routine as it was. She at least had a nice farm to run around now. Her duties weren’t horrible, keep the Master and Missus happy and bring them tea each evening. Whatever they want, she was to procure. It wasn’t hard. People of money were easy to please, she had learned.

In that time, she had celebrated her sixteenth birthday with the other servants and slaves. They had a small candle on a loaf of bread for her. It was all they could conjure up as the Master was very stingy with his servants. He was not cruel, just negligent. The servants had become the closest thing Zephyr had ever felt to an actual family. However, they had to be careful, if Master caught her ought fraternizing, she would be punished. She was a house servant. Not a field servant.

“Take the baggage back to the carriage.” Thorwald commanded with a wave of his hand. Zephyr, buried under papers and delicates he had thought would quell the Missus’ latest anger fit, nodded and dragged herself back to the carriage.

Her muscles screamed as she dumped the merchandise in the luggage compartment. She heard a few things break but she figured she could blame that on the merchants and avoid the worst. Callum was nibbling a nearby bush as she approached. He raised his head to greet her. “Hey boy.” She smiled, hugging the beast’s neck. “You ok?”

Stroking the horse’s neck, the thoughts of the strange Wildman in the woods returned. Angus had warned her of predators; mountain lions, bears, wolves etc. However, no one had mentioned wild men. Every one around here dressed like Thorwald, or was a slave. Who was he? Shaking the thoughts away, Zephyr locked the compartment up and made her way back into the square.

“Have you seen Master Thorwald?” she asked one of the merchants when she couldn’t immediately spot the man. The merchant pointed towards the tavern at the end of the street. Rolling her eyes, the teen weaved her way through the throng of people and into the tavern.

“Took you long enough.” Thorwald growled at her when she sat down beside him. A tankard of beer sat before him; a quarter full. He gave her arm a painful squeeze, “Everything locked up?”

“Yes sir.” Zephyr winced.

The rest of dinner passed by uneventfully. Thorwald ate nearly half the menu, whereas he got Zephyr a small soup and a side of bread. She didn’t complain. Such things were a rare treat so she ate it gratefully. Callum trotted out of town, excited to be heading home where he was sure a sugar cube would be waiting for him.

They hadn’t been on the wooded trail but a few minutes when Callum let out a guttural noise. Something cracked and the whole carriage shook. Zephyr curled up as she was thrown from the driver’s seat when the horse collapsed. Thorwald, who had been dozing, stirred with a curse.

Zephyr jumped up and knelt beside the injured horse. Working quickly, she released the animal from its harness and circled around, trying to find the cause as her Master clambered out of the carriage. “What the bloody hell happened?!” he roared.

His servant was bent around the front of the animal. “It appears Callum has broken his front leg sir. There must have been a hole or something in the trail.” She informed him, resting a sympathetic hand on the suffering animal’s head.

Thorwald muttered something gruffly. Grabbing the musket from the driver’s seat, he set it, ready for use. “Well then, there is only one thing to do.”

“What?!” Zephyr gasped. She could believe what her master was about to do, but she wouldn’t allow it. “No!” Stepping between Thorwald and Callum, she spread her arms out. “I will not let you shoot him!”

“He is suffering, get out of the way!”

“NO! Angus can help him heal! We can get another horse to come back for the carriage!” Zephyr argued, grabbing for the musket. Thorwald, still drunk on his liquor, was much larger than his rebellious servant. He easily outmatched her. With a hard push, he knocked Zephyr back. Raising his hand, he brought it up swiftly. Striking her with the back of his hand, the teen went sprawling into the dirt.

“Stupid girl, you have been nothing but trouble since I purchased you years ago.” Thorwald hissed, lowering the barrel of the gun to her. Zephyr, still dazed from the blow, felt a chill go down her spine. She never feared death, it was not uncommon in their lives. However, she hadn’t hoped to go like this.

Cowering beside Callum, Zephyr braced for the end. The gun went off with a BANG! Powder exploded all over the place. Echoing through the night, Zephyr waited for the shot, the pain. It never came. After several seconds, she opened her eyes.

At first, the teen didn’t process what she saw before her. Her master lay on the dirt path. Blood pooled beneath him, dark and sticky. The musket was in pieces on his chest. His head was all over the place, deformed. He had shot himself in the head! _No,_ Zephyr looked up to see the wild man from before standing between her and where her Master had been. He was now spackled with blood and gun powder.

“You ok?” his voice was deep, hoarse. Zephyr was frozen in place as he looked over his shoulder at her. Mechanically, she nodded. “Good.” With that, the wild man turned and padded off into the underbrush.

It took several minutes before Zephyr could get to her feet. She couldn’t look at her master, now blown open. As she stood, she wretched into the nearest bush. A sinking feeling took hold as she realized how this was going to look. That man had saved her life, but if she stayed, she would be accused of murdering her master. Working quickly, the teen got Callum to his hooves. He was nursing his broken leg as she hugged him goodbye and sent him off back to the farm.

As the horse limped away, she said a silent prayer that he arrived safely. Grabbing whatever she could find off her master’s body that would hold monetary value, Zephyr set off into the woods in the direction of the Wildman. He had a head-start but she had hoped she would be able to catch up. The teen still felt herself shaking from the events that just happened.

It was near midnight and the forest was getting darker and darker the further she pressed on. _Oh god, I hope I don’t run into any predators out here._ The thought terrified her. The only weapon she had, had been blown to kingdom come. A rustling in the underbrush caused the young woman to jump. “Who’s there?” she stammered, trying to sound menacing.

A head of green hair emerged with a wicked grin. “Looking for someone?” the Wildman asked.

Zephyr frowned, “W-well, I-I wanted to thank you for saving me… b-but ask that you take me with you…”

“No.” The Wildman had grown serious all of a sudden. “Can’t do that.”

“Why not? You saved me but if I am found with that body I am as good as dead!” Zephyr pointed out. She could tell by the man’s expression that he hadn’t quite thought that through.

“Vancha? Who is there?” an older voice echoed in the woods behind them. Before this Vancha could respond, an older man emerged from where Vancha had moments earlier. He was covered in long white hair and dressed in tattered tan clothes. Zephyr noticed he was missing an ear.

“No one, she was just leaving.” Vancha growled, shooting Zephyr a warning look.

The teen crossed her arms, determined to stand her ground, “No. I am not. You saved my life just to let me die? That makes sense!”

“You did what?” the newcomer hissed. He whirled on Vancha, lashing out quickly. The other man ducked and retreated further away. “You intervened in a human matter did you not?!” the older man growled, clearly enraged.

“Human matter?” Zephyr interrupted. “What do you mean, human matter? What are you two then? You look human to me?”

The old man turned to her, calming somewhat, “Child, tell me what happened.” Zephyr recounted the events from a few hours before to the older man as vividly as she could remember. The entire story, Vancha was glowering at her. She could only assume he did something he wasn’t supposed to.

“Well, then, she is correct Vancha.” The old man sighed, “You were foolish in many ways this night. As younglings are nowadays. You revealed yourself to her and saved her life. If she were to return to mortal society now, your act would be for naught.” He rubbed his beard thoughtfully. Then, he turned to Zephyr, “Child, you have a choice now. Have you ever heard of vampires?”

Zephyr shook her head. “My brother used to scare me with stories of night stalkers who drank the blood of naughty children who didn’t listen…”

Vancha snorted from his safe spot a few feet away. The old man chuckled. “Well, we are not quite that. We do not drink the blood of naughty children. We do not kill when we drink either. We live far longer than humans, but are not immortal. We live a hard life, one of trials and hardship, but for some, it can be very rewarding. Since my assistant here has damned you in the mortal world, I am, out of obligation, offering you an opportunity in ours. If I take you as my assistant, as I will be losing him soon, you will be blooded when we both feel it is right. If not, we part ways and never speak of it again.” The old man proposed.

Zephyr frowned. _A vampire? Well, that explained how Vancha was able to move so fast and stop the gun from going off on her. But, did she want this life? If she turned back, she could flee and start out in a new town. This wasn’t like when Larten fled though, the authorities had evolved since then. Surely, she would be caught._ “May I know your names first? If I am to make any sort of agreement with anyone, I prefer to know who I am dealing with.”

Vancha smirked, “My name is Vancha March. That’s all you will ever need to know.” He winked at her. Zephyr rolled her eyes. Looking back at the older man in front of her, she waited for his answer.

“My name is Paris Skyle.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zephyr is trying to adjust to life as a vampire assistant but also trying to learn more about the mysterious life of vampires as well as the vampaneze life that Vancha left behind.

**Chapter 3: Life of an Assistant**

The river water trickled along. Other than the occasional breeze rustling the leaves, the water provided the only sound. Zephyr lay stretched out on a tree branch. Sunlight peaked through at her but for the most part, she was shrouded in shadows. The young woman nibbled at a carved pick she had made deftly.

A rustling in the underbrush nearby drew her attention. Zephyr went totally still, listening intently. _That’s too obvious for him…._ She thought to herself. The breeze picked up once more, gently moving the leaves above her. It brought a slight scent with it as well. Zephyr sat up, glancing around. “Where…?” she breathed, sliding down the tree quietly.

As she stepped out from under the protection of the tree there was a cracking sound above. Before she could react, Zephyr was knocked off her feet. The young woman went rolling across the riverbed. Her ribs ached dully. Not having time to worry about the pain, she quickly got to her feet.

Zephyr braced herself as Vancha charged her again. He was already half blooded so he had speed. However, Zephyr had learned early he was arrogant and that sometimes proved to her advantage. The blonde ducked away and landed a kick to the half blood’s side. Vancha barely waivered.

He straightened up and threw a punch. Zephyr took it to the shoulder while she pivoted around him. Her breathing quickened as she tried to keep an eye on her opponent but he was too quick. As she brought her leg up to strike, he sent her off balance. The young woman fell back into the rocks. Before she could recover, Vancha had her pinned. “That’s 2-0.” He grinned wickedly.

Zephyr struggled against him; teeth bared. Vancha had straddled her waist to pin her. Seeing her opportunity, she brought her knee up. A yelp escaped her opponent and he quickly retreated. “That was a cheap shot!” he grimaced.

The assistant sat up, brushing the dirt off. “Still counts.”

“You did leave yourself open.” Paris pointed out from his sheltered resting place in the underbrush. “That was a youngling mistake Vancha. Never give your opponent an opening like that.”

Vancha scowled at Zephyr but helped her up. She stuck her tongue out playfully, taking her wins where she could get them. Vancha was half blooded as a vampaneze. The circumstances he had not told her, only that it had happened. He had changed his mind about that lifestyle and now wanted to be a vampire. Zephyr had gathered some information about both of her companions over the last year. However, she found both still had closely guarded secrets. Paris especially.

“Vancha, as the loser of this match, you must hunt tonight.” Paris ordered. His older assistant muttered angrily but didn’t question the orders. Instead, he skulked off into the underbrush to hunt.

Zephyr frowned, feeling a little bad. “Master, sir, if I may- “

“You may.” Paris nodded, knowing where she was going with her train of thought. Zephyr nodded with a quick smile before bouncing off after her companion.

“I can hunt by myself.” Vancha grumbled as Zephyr caught up to him. The young woman shrugged.

“Sure, then I am just along for the company.” She teased. The half blood smiled slightly. Despite their competitiveness and rivalry as Paris’ two assistants, they did think of each other as friends. Zephyr saw Vancha as that big brother figure she had lost so many years ago.

The day grew long and the sun began to set as the pair managed to finish gathering enough squirrels for the night’s dinner. On their way back to the river, Vancha suddenly stopped and forced Zephyr down.

“What the- “

Vancha put a finger to his lips to silence her. She had never seen him so tense. They lay, hidden in the bushes. The forest was still and eerily quiet. Moments before it had been bustling with night life. The moon was rising in the sky, bathing the forest in pale light. Zephyr, crouched beneath Vancha, was growing anxious when they heard movement across the clearing.

A figure emerged from the opposite side of the forest. It wasn’t human nor vampire. It was tall and lean. Its skin was a deep purple color. The hair on its body the color of blood. It’s eyes crimson. The figure looked around a moment, sniffing the air. It glanced in the direction of the assistants’ hiding place before disappearing back into the forest. Vancha kept the pair of them low a moment longer, listening.

Once he was convinced it was clear, he let Zephyr up. He didn’t say anything, just pushed her ahead of him towards the river. “What was that?” Zephyr whispered after several moments of silence.

Vancha didn’t answer right away. He waited until they were safely back at camp and their dinner cooking. Paris noticed the tense air between his assistants but didn’t pry. He was good like that. If Zephyr wanted to talk, he listened, otherwise, her secrets were hers. Zephyr kept glancing at Vancha while they ate.

“That was a vampaneze.” Vancha muttered after finishing his meal.

“So, you did run into one.” Paris said simply, seeming to be unphased.

Zephyr looked at Paris, “Wait, you knew?”

“Of course, I knew there had been one in the town nearby. However, we have an agreement. We stay away from them and they leave us alone. Mostly.” Paris confessed, “It does not always work out that way.”

“Which is why I kept us hidden.” Vancha growled. “They feed on humans.”

Zephyr blinked, “But so do vampires, right?”

Vancha’s expression darkened, “No, they hunt for pleasure. They hunt to kill.”

Zephyr swallowed her bite of squirrel. It was harder than she had anticipated. So that vampaneze could have killed the two of them? Paris saw the fear on her face and sighed, “It is very rare a vampaneze will kill a vampire’s assistant. He may have caught wind of my or Vancha’s scent and been deterred. Just be cautious.” He reassured her gently.

The group finished the rest of their meal in silence. Paris announced he wanted to go for a walk, leaving his two assistants alone in the encampment. Vancha laid down and closed his eyes. Zephyr figured he wasn’t sleeping, he usually slept in the wee hours of the AM. Zephyr curled up close to where Paris had been sleeping. Before she knew it, sleep had overtaken her.

_Where am I? Zephyr muttered, looking around. The forest was dark. The moon trickled little light down into the valley where Zephyr found herself. There was a loud thumping sound, like that of a heart-beat. “Hello?” she called, circling around._

_There were little houses in the valley but no occupants. The thumping noise echoed in her head as she wandered around. “Hello?” she called again._

_“Hello Zephyr…” the voice was dark, creepy. A shiver went up the young woman’s spine as she turned. The village was slowly being consumed by darkness. It was melting away until there was nothing left. In the darkness, the thumping of the heart was the loudest. The voice had come from a face hovering above everything._

_The face was that of an older man with white hair that stuck out to the sides. He wore bright circular spectacles and had a wicked grin on his face. A chilling feeling crept over Zephyr as she looked into the man’s spectacles. The thumping grew louder and louder until s-_

Zephyr sat upright, cold sweat beading down her forehead. Her tank top and jeans were clinging to her. It wasn’t hot out. The night had brought cool air with it. Glancing around, Zephyr saw Paris had retreated for the night as dawn broke across the sky. Vancha was watching her intently.

“You okay?” he whispered, not wanting to wake Paris.

Zephyr swallowed hard, nodding. She pushed herself to her feet. “I’m going to go do some training or something….” The young woman didn’t wait for Vancha to answer, she jogged across the river and into the woods behind.

The young woman practiced her sparring on one of the larger trees, kicking at it and swiping at it as a vampire would when they get their sharp nails. She had lost track of how long she had been doing it. The sun had started to rise in the sky when Vancha came looking for her. “Zeph?” he called, emerging from the shadows.

“Sorry, did Paris need me?” she breathed, pausing to catch her breath. Vancha shook his head.

“Not really. We are going to be moving on later. Why don’t you help me pack up?” he suggested, eyeing her.

Zephyr nodded. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. “I am right behind you.”

Vancha didn’t say anything right away as the pair walked back. “You know… if something is bothering you, you can always talk to me.” He told her after a few minutes.

The blonde smiled, “I know. It was just a bad dream. Spooked me is all.”

“About the vampaneze?” he pried.

Zephyr frowned, “No. Not at all. Honestly, I-I don’t know what about exactly. There was this thumping… like how your heart does. But it was a lot louder. I don’t know where I was. The village I was at was getting consumed by this evil darkness. The darkness took the shape of a face though…”

Vancha was looking at her. She couldn’t tell if it was concern or an attempt not to laugh at her. “You didn’t recognize the face?”

Zephyr shook her head, “No. I have never seen him before. He was older. With white hair. He had this really creepy smile. It could stop you in your tracks.”

Her companion frowned. “Yeah, that’s odd.” She may have only known him for a year, but she could tell when he was hiding something. This time, she decided not to ask. She would regret that later.

After the pair packed up, they went about making sure their exercises were done. Zephyr spent most of her day up in a tree doing crunches and other various athletics while Vancha stayed on the ground today. She thinks he was still wary of their unwelcomed intruder. The sun slowly lowered itself in the sky, signaling night would soon be upon them as the assistants finished their training for the day. Zephyr liked that about being Paris’ assistant. He was hands on when he felt they needed new training, but in between, he left them to their own devices.

“Shall we be off?” Paris greeted the pair as they returned. Zephyr lifted what bags they had onto her back. Vancha was more of a body guard at this point. He was close to being blooded now and that meant most of the hard stuff fell on the younger assistant.

The start of the trip was overall quiet. After a while, Paris looked around, “You know, why not find a nice town to settle down in for a bit?” Vancha groaned. He hated the cushy life of humans and refused anything of the like. He was a nature man to the core. Zephyr perked up at the thought. Paris winked at her. When Vancha began to protest, Paris cuffed him. Hard enough to get his point across but not hard enough to leave any true damage. “Remember your place.” The old vampire growled. “Besides, I have some business in a small town a ways from here.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zephyr and her group settle down in a little town just in time for a festival. But there is a surprise waiting for her within the festival that she had not expected.

**Chapter 4: Reunion**

“I can’t wait until we can leave this wretched place.” Vancha growled from the floor next to Zephyr’s bed. Paris was sound asleep in the room next to theirs’. It had been two months since they had settled in the latest town. Two years had passed since Zephyr had joined up with the two.

Zephyr peered over the bedside at him, “Oh come off it. This town is one of the cutest we have stayed in. There is going to be a festival of some kind starting tonight. Do you think Master Paris will let us go?”

The excitement oozing from the younger assistant made the older one sigh. “I doubt it. Paris is rather old school. The less interaction with humans the better.”

Zephyr frowned. Sitting up, she pushed off the bed, propelling herself over Vancha. “I will ask when he wakes. We have been working really hard lately. Maybe we deserve a night off.” She hoped.

Vancha smirked. “Fat chance.”

“If he says yes, will you go with me?” The blond smiled, leaning over him. Vancha reddened. Her large blue eyes had been making it difficult to say no lately.

“No. I don’t really do festivals and such.” He persisted.

“Please?” she countered, batting her eyes.

There was a deep groan from the green haired assistant. “I hate when you do that!” he growled.

“So is that a yes?”

“IF you can get Paris to agree.”

With a squeal, Zephyr bounced out of the hotel to go buy whatever they were going to eat for dinner. Shortly after she left, Vancha sighed. He stretched, laying back as Paris sauntered in. “I take it our young maiden has gone off to fetch dinner.” He smiled slightly.

“Yes, please don’t call her that.” Vancha frowned, glancing over at his master.

Paris cocked an eyebrow. “Oh? Why not?” he inquired, sitting on the bed beside his oldest assistant and close friend.

“Maiden implies she is weak. She has survived your tutelage this long. That is more than any woman I have heard of.” Vancha pointed out.

His mentor nodded, “Yes, but she still has a ways to go. Do not forget that.” Paris reminded him.

Vancha sighed, “I know.”

The silence following that statement peaked his mentor’s interest, “My dear Vancha, you have not developed a soft spot for our little Zephyr have you?” Paris smirked.

Vancha scowled at him, getting to his feet. “Not at all!” With that, the assistant stormed out, leaving his master alone in the room; snickering to himself. Vancha went and rested up on the roof of the inn they were staying at. The sun beat down on him, turning his skin even redder than normal. He never minded. He would overcome the vampire weakness to the sun.

After several hours, a poke in his side made the green haired man jump. Zephyr giggled, sitting back on her heels as he glowered at her. A bowl of soup sat before her. “I bought you dinner. Paris said you were a bit irritated at him. So, I bought you your dinner.” She smiled.

Vancha sighed, “I am not irritated. Hungry.” He smiled slightly and took the bowl. It was heartier than he had expected. After he had slurped it down, Zephyr took the bowl back.

“Paris said we can go to the festival, but only for tonight. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” Zephyr explained, “I know you really didn’t want to.” With that, she took the soup bowl and descended back to their room.

Vancha growled to himself. “Damned women…”

The room was dark and quiet when he entered. “Zeph?”

“She left already.” Paris answered. “Did you enjoy the soup?”

“Yeah, it was fine.” He grumbled.

Paris chuckled, “Good. Rest now, we leave tomorrow.”

The festival was more active than Zephyr had expected. There were booths were you could play games, such as knocking tin cans down with a ball to win a hand made toy. There were merchant booths scattered all over as well. Lanterns illuminated the walkways, giving the festival a cozy feel on the cool autumn night.

Everyone was dressed in their Sunday best. Apparently, the festival was a marvel occasion in which everyone attended. Zephyr felt a little out of sorts in her dirty jeans and a looser tank top. However, she was too caught up in the atmosphere to pay too much attention. As she wandered around the booths, buying a few trinkets she thought her friends might like, a familiar scent caught her attention.

Zephyr’s blood ran cold as she recognized the scent. She hadn’t smelled that scent in over a decade. She wasn’t even a half blood yet, but Vancha and Paris had taught her how to scent other vampires and people. This was a half blood like Vancha but not just that, this scent was one she never thought she would smell again.

Stuffing her little trinkets into her baggie, Zephyr looked around frantically. _Where are you?_ Her heart was racing. It skipped a beat when she caught sight of a tall gentleman on the outskirts of the booths, his hair was combed back; an unnatural orange color. _It can’t be._ Zephyr forced her way over to this strange man.

“Larten?” she squeaked.

The man turned, looking her over cautiously. After a moment, a look of disbelief took over. “Zephyr?” Larten gasped.

“Larten!” Zephyr squealed, throwing her arms around her big brother. Larten crushed his sister against him. He felt droplets fall against his neck as he held her, stepping back from the crowds.

Vancha wandered the outskirts of the festival. He knew Zephyr was close, but he hadn’t seen her yet. “Why would you let her go alone? Idiot.” He cursed himself, scanning the crowd. After several minutes, he caught sight of her near the edge by the farm fields. She was with a man and they were embracing. Something inside him twisted uncomfortably as he watched the pair.

“What are you doing here?!” Zephyr demanded, pulling away and wiping her tears away.

“I could ask you the same question.” Larten countered with a smile. He was looking her up and down. “My you have grown so much.”

“So have you! You are taller than Dad was!” Zephyr teased, giving him a gentle shove. Then her face fell, “You never came back.”

Her brother grew serious, “I meant to, honest. Come on, we can go somewhere to talk.” He promised, putting an arm around her and leading her away.

Vancha had seen enough. He watched this new man lead Zephyr away before retreating back to the hotel. Zephyr clearly knew this man. There was obviously something there. Paris didn’t say anything when his assistant came skulking in. Vancha slumped in the corner by the door and pretended to sleep.

Zephyr spent the night catching up with her brother. He told her he too was on the path to vampirism in coded words and that was why he couldn’t come back for her. His master was out hiding in one of the fields several miles away he told her, otherwise he would want to introduce them. Zephyr said the same, thinking Paris may cuff her for revealing him.

“So that is what happened after you ran away?” Zephyr pried, staring down at the ale in front of her. Vancha was the drinker in the group, not her.

“Yes, I got a new outlook on life. Harder one, but… it did save my life.” Larten sighed. “What about you? How did you get caught up in that life?”

Zephyr felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “Well, after what happened, I was sold as a servant to a cotton tycoon down south. He wasn’t the worst master one could have… but he was a moody one.” 

“Did he hurt you?” She saw her brother tense up. The thought bothered him and she could see that.

His little sister nodded. “I will probably bare the scars forever on my back. He loved to use a belt when the Miss would make him mad. Someone had to pay cause he couldn’t hit her.”

Larten gave her hand a gentle squeeze, “I am so sorry Zephyr, had I known, I would have c-“

“Come back? How would you? How could you?” she countered bitterly. Then she softened. “Besides, if that hadn’t happened then I wouldn’t have met my own travelling companions. One of which saved my life by killing my master. Honestly, as annoying as he can be, I do owe him my life.”

Larten seemed to ease a bit, “I understand. Still…”

Zephyr smiled and squeezed his hand back, “You can’t always protect me.”

Her brother frowned, “I do not feel like I have protected you at all. If anything, the opposite.”

“Hey, we are both here now and we got to see one another again. That is all that matters, right?”

“Right.” Her brother conceded reluctantly.

As the dawn came, Larten stood, offering her his hand. Her brother offered to walk her back to her hotel at least. Stopping several feet away from the door, Zephyr turned and hugged her brother again. “Oh Larten, I wish we had more time. I miss you so much.” She informed him.

Larten brushed a strand of hair back from her face, “Well, if we both complete our training, we have quite a bit of time.” He promised. “I promise, we will see each other again soon.”

Zephyr gave her brother a gentle punch in the arm, “You better keep this promise.”

“I will.” He chuckled. With that, he leaned in and kissed her head before turning to return to his own master. Zephyr stood, watching him leave until he was totally out of sight.

“Who was that?” Paris inquired as she entered the hotel room.

“My brother…” Zephyr croaked, her voice cracking as tears welled in her eyes. “He is alive…”

Her master said nothing, simply patting the bedside. Zephyr walked over and sat next to him, crying into his shoulder. All the years she had thought he had died. All the years she had hoped he would come for her only to be disappointed came flooding out at once. Paris watched Vancha, who had relaxed a little upon the realization it was a relative.

“Apparently he is a vampire’s assistant too.” She muttered, wiping away her tears.

Paris cocked an eyebrow, “Oh really? Did he say for whom?”

“He did…. S-Seba Nile?” Zephyr croaked.

Her master chuckled, “Ah yes. Seba is an old friend of mine. If that is the case, I met your brother. Larten correct?” Zephyr nodded. “Yes, I met him just before I met Vancha and consequently, you.” He pat her head gently, “You will see more of him child.”

Zephyr nodded, still sniffling. “Now, I am going to go rest. We will leave tonight.” Paris instructed, scooting over to his room and locking the door. Zephyr laid out on the bed. The sniffles finally began to subside.

“You ok?” Vancha spoke up from the floor.

“Yes. I guess… I never really grieved the loss and now, I don’t have to.” She admitted.

Vancha nodded, stretching his hands out and putting them behind his head. “Well, I am happy for you kid.”

Zephyr scowled. “Who are you calling kid?” she challenged, poking his side.

Vancha jumped and swatted at her. “You!” he teased, scooting away as she jumped at him. “Stop! Leave me alone!” he barked as she went to poke him in the side again.

Paris sighed, putting the pillow over his head as he heard the side table crash to the ground next door. “I am going to have to blood one of them soon just to get some peace and quiet.”


End file.
